


Halloween treats

by Lady of Spain (ladyofspain7)



Series: Halloween Treats [1]
Category: Original Work, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Other, Psychological Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofspain7/pseuds/Lady%20of%20Spain
Summary: A series of Halloween stories, consisting of magic and things that go bump in the night.





	1. The Gypsy Lady (La Bruja-ha)

 

 

 

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight Banner by LOS  
A/N: Curro Castillo is a character from my story, A Change of Heart. He is Leah's imprint.  
......  
It was sickening the way Leah hung all over Curro. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked the guy, and he was her imprint, but jeez … I probably shouldn’t feel that way tho’, seein’ as I was like a freakin’ piece of Velcro on my main squeeze, Bella Swan. Which reminds me, I left her with Rachel at the house. They were immersed in plannin’ the stupid decorations for the grad party. Yeah, believe it or not, La Push High School would actually be rid of us—at least, Paul, Quil, Embry and me.  
Curro had picked us up, along with Leah to get him over to the gypsy lady that lived in the old house back aways from the street near Uncle Omni’s ranch. Leah had forgotten where she lived, and Paul joined us just to get away from the girls discussin’ and fussin’ over what color balloons to buy, or how many sprinkles to put on the cupcakes. Seriously? Who cared?  
Truth be told, I was ready to scream myself, so when Curro asked me to come with them, as a guide, I readily agreed with thankfulness in my heart. Paul jumped at the chance too. No surprise there.  
. . . . .  
When we drove up to the shack, Curro was gushin’ with words of gratitude.

Nodding his curly, dark-haired head, Curro spoke in his broken English, “Gracias, mi amigo. I would never have found eso casa by myself, for reals. My beautiful Leah had no idea where to find it.”  
“No problem, but why are we here?”  
“Mi compadre, Guilermo, he say una bruja live at this place.”  
What? “A Bruja?”  
“Si, una bruja … how you say in English? Hmn … a witch.”  
Paul snorted. “Where’s the gingerbread?”  
“Que?”  
Leah rolled her eyes. “Just ignore Paul. He always has something snarky to say. And to answer your question, Curro has an itchy rash that won’t go away.”  
“Allergic to you, is he?” Paul teased.  
I gave him the look, and said, “Can it, Paul. Let’s go. Move it!”  
. . . . .  
I’d heard that the woman who occupied this house, was half Makah, and half gypsy, or Romanian, or whatever. She also had a reputation for potions and spells, not that I believed any of that ol’ hocus pocus.  
When we finally met the lady, I was surprised to see a pipe hangin’ off her lower lip. Jeez, she sure looked the part.  
Once inside, Curro explained the problem. The gypsy gave him a jar of somethin’ or other, and we were ready to vamoose.  
“Missy,” the ol’ woman whispered in a gravelly voice, “Wouldn’t you like to know what your future holds? Only one dollar.”  
I guess Leah must’ve felt sorry for her, so she agreed. “Sure, sounds like fun.”  
The ol’ woman spread out the Tarot cards over a small table in the cramped room. Leah sat down on a rickety chair and watched as the fortune teller turned them over one by one.  
“Hmn … interesting. I’ve never seen the cards fall this way. I believe you have a long, long life ahead of you and your man. I see the two of you together forever it seems.”  
“What about children?”  
“Ah yes, three of them. One girl, two boys.” Leah grinned at that, even if it was a load of malarkey.  
. . . . .  
When she finished her predictions, she looked at Paul. “What of your future?”  
“No thanks, Lady. I know my future, and it ain’t that rosy.”  
Her attention then turned to me. “You?”  
“Uh … no, we really need to get back home.”  
We were barely outta the door when Paul cracked, “What a buncha bull.”  
The gypsy stopped us, saying, “You don’t believe?”  
“Not on your life.”  
Trainin’ her eyes on me, she narrowed them, and said, “You are a non-believer too?”  
I shrugged. “Well, I guess you could say, I’m not actually the superstitious type.” Imagine this coming outta the mouth of a freakin’ shape-shifter.  
“Oh, you will be.”  
“How’s that?”  
She took a puff from her pipe, and said, “I’ve just put a transference spell on you and your insolent buddy.”  
“Sure ya did,” Paul quipped with a smirk.  
“Do not underestimate the abilities of this old woman, young man.”

“Phfft!” Paul scoffed.  
“Hey, idiot, that’s enough outta you,” Leah chastised.  
. . . . .  
We climbed back into the car, Paul jabberin’ away the whole time. “Did you hear that ol’ crone? She’s cast a spell on us … yeah, right.”  
I was gettin’ a little irritated with the big loudmouth. “Thanks a lot, Paul. Now I’m cursed. Did you havta act like such a jerk?”  
Leah broke in. “How’s that any different today? He’s always a jerk.”  
Keyin’ the engine, Curro looked back over his shoulder at Paul, horrified by our talk. “Santa Maria … let us not speak such unpleasantness.”  
Leah patted his arm. “Okay, just for you, sweetheart.”  
“Damn, Curro, you’ve really tamed this shrew. My hat’s off to ya. Must be that Latin lover mojo, eh?”  
Curro’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Que es this mojo?”  
“Don’t worry about it, hon. Whatever it is, you’ve got it in spades.”  
“Que?”  
I gave him a pat on the back. “That was a compliment, sen֮or.”  
“Ah, si. If you say so.”  
. . . . .  
Bella was waitin’ at the house when we arrived and looked up from clearing all the plannin’ stuff strewn over the kitchen table. “Where’ve you two been?”  
Paul jumped right in, head first. “We went to visit an ol’ gypsy woman. And get this … She’s put a hex on us. Ha!”  
“What?”  
“You heard me.”  
She looked from Paul to me. “But why?”  
Shrugging, I spouted, “We’re unbelievers, so she wanted to prove to us that she’s the real deal. Anyway, let’s go. I’ll take you home, Bells.”  
. . . . .  
I was totally whupped, so I racked out and was out for the count in a matter of minutes.  
When I woke up, I was reaaally disoriented. Where the hell was I? Wasn’t this Paul’s apartment? How did I get here?  
Scratchin’ my head, I walked into the bathroom to empty my tank. I passed by the mirror and did a double take. There in living color was a reflection, and it was not mine. Lookin’ thru my eyes, it was Paul’s face starin’ back at me. What the hell!  
“I’m cursed, I’m cursed,” I screamed. Aaaaah—my voice belonged to Lahote too. Jeez, the ol’ gypsy was the real deal after all.  
This was freakin’ insane. Hoooolleey …that meant Paul was … Nooooo!!!  
......  
Rubbin’ the sleep from my eyes, I looked around. What? Man, I must’ve fallen asleep here. Repositioning myself in this midget-sized bed, I wondered how Jacob could stand lying in this postage stamp? Where was he anyway? On the couch?  
Mmn, mmn, the aroma of bacon sizzling in the pan wafted my way. Good deal… I was hungry. Rachel wasn’t the shiniest spoon in the kitchen, but she did okay in the breakfast department.  
I walked into the room, and my Rachel had a smile for me. “Hey, little brother, dig in. It’s all ready.”  
“What’s with the little brother bit?”  
Waving the tongs in the air, she said, “You are my little brother, silly. Now, sit down and eat.”  
“Is this some kind of joke?”  
Rachel pointed her utensil at me, and blared, “Just sit your butt down, and stop acting so weird.”  
Acting?  
I pulled up a chair and plopped down on it. As I picked up my fork, I noticed that my hands looked different. There was a scar running along my right thumb. When the hell did that happen? Glancing down at my chest, I saw the shirt I was wearing. It was Jacob’s cheesy rag that read: You can’t spell awesome without me in it. Where were my clothes?  
Looking up from my plate, I asked Rachel, “Hey, babydoll, what did you do with my clothes? Are they in the wash or something?”  
Rachel frowned, getting up from the table. She placed one hand on my forehead. “You feeling all right?”  
“Yeah, fine, why?”  
“Then why are you calling me, baby? My gosh, you sounded just like Paul.”  
“Huh? What is that supposed to mean?”  
“What do you think it means? I swear, you are not yourself this morning, Jake.”  
Jake? I stood up, toppling the chair over with a crash, in my hurry to get to a mirror. The reflection didn’t lie. Sh**, sh**, sh**. Why that ol’ dingbat! How could she do this to me?  
I left what remained of my breakfast uneaten, and went out to Jacob’s garage to drive his Rabbit to MY place. Damn, I was hoping the keys would be in the car. Fat chance … of course. Just my luck.  
Back to the house I flew. “Chelle, where are the keys to the Rabbit?”  
“How should I know? They’re your keys,” she yelled from the kitchen.  
Muttering more obscenities, I rifled through the top drawer of Jacob’s dresser, tossing clothes helter-skelter, then I heard Rachel call, “I found them. In the junk drawer, where you always throw them. What is wrong with you today?”  
Good question, but only one right answer, dammit!  
% % % % %  
The thumpin’ on the front door broke me outta my state of shock, and I ran to open it. There I was, standin’ in the doorway, starin’ back at me. It was freaky—and I mean freaky—lookin’ at myself. I blinked and looked again. Jeez … the hair; couldn’t he have at least combed it?  
“Can you believe this?” he bellowed in my voice. This is just so wrong. I say we pay another visit to the ol’ lady.”  
“Ditto.”  
. . . . .  
I let Paul drive the Rabbit out to witchipoo’s place. Shakin’ my head, I groused, “I could just kill Curro for draggin’ me to see that woman. What did I ever do to deserve this?”  
Clutchin’ the steerin’ wheel in a steel tight grip, he huffed, “Yeah, I hope to hell his rash gets waaaay worse.”  
The bruja, as Curro described her, opened the door to her house, and with a puff from her pipe, blew curls of grey smoke in our faces. “So … the boys come to visit the gypsy lady again, eh?”  
“And you know why, ol’ woman.”  
Removing the pipe stem from her mouth, she pointed it at Paul, and screeched, “That’s Mrs. Rita to you, rudie!”  
“Wait a damn minute, we—”  
“I interrupted him by nudgin’ his shoulder before he dug himself in any deeper, givin’ him the shut-the-hell-up-look.  
“What do you want from me?”  
Paul remained bull-headed as ever. “Don’t play innocent with us. You know what we want.”  
“But you are unbelievers,” she cackled.  
Shovin’ Paul aside, I said, “Not anymore, ma’am. We’re sorry for that, but can you please reverse the spell?”  
Her jaw tightened, and she hissed, “Not so fast, sonny. Come back in a week.”  
“A week? Now, look here, lady.”  
She calmly turned to me. “You should advise your rude friend here, to button his lip if he ever wants his body back. Unfortunately, the spell has cast its net over you as well.”  
“Paul, shut it please … for my sake, huh?”  
“Like I said, come back in one week’s time. My roof leaks and I need it fixed.”  
I grabbed the back of Paul’s shirt to prevent him from attacking her. “Whaaaat? You want us to re-shingle your roof?”  
The gypsy blew another cloud of smoke in our direction, then smiled smugly. “You want the spell reversed; I want my roof repaired.”  
I yanked Paul back a few steps. “We’ll be here.”  
“And bring a nail-gun. I’ll have the rest of the supplies here for you. One more thing … if you tell anyone what has happened to you while under the spell, it will never be erased.”  
......  
On the way back to Jacob’s place, I was still bristling with anger. Who did that ol’ broad think she was anyway, ordering us around like her personal valets?  
That also meant that I had to act out the charade, and sleep in that pathetic excuse for a bed, for those long seven days. Damn, damn, damn! And what was I going to do about Chelle? Ah, my head. It was pounding like war drums.  
......  
As I pulled up to Paul’s apartment, I had to admit, it was nice to sleep in a bed that actually fit my frame.  
I drifted off, thinkin’ about Bella, and suddenly alert, sat bolt upright. How was I even gonna speak to her in this freakin’ body? Jeez, and what about my sister? Would she expect me to … kiss her? Or … no way could I ever think about how far she and Paul went, if ya get my drift. Knowing Paul, I’m sure there were no roadblocks left on the highway of his love life. Worse yet, what about Bella and me, or Bella and Paul. Nooooo!!!!


	2. Cursed

  
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight

 

Banner by LOS

I called Jacob first thing when I got home, hoping no one in the house heard me. I asked my pack mate, “What are we gonna do about patrol, Jake? The rest of the guys will be in our heads.”  
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna concentrate on the job, or our first visit with the gypsy, and try not to stray from that. Hopefully, the week will be over before we blow it.”  
“Easy for you to say, you have more control over your thoughts than me.”  
“Ya think?”  
“Hey, man, you have to admit tho’, I pretty much keep Chelle off the grid.”  
“Yeah, thank you for that at least.”  
.....  
Jeez, patrol tonight, and I was gettin’ reeeaaaaly nervous. Steady, Jake, steady. You got this.  
Paul and I reached the tree line at the same time. Sam, Jared and Leah were already there, waitin’. I glanced at Paul, who let out a long, loud breath, and gave me a knowin’ look. We shifted and took off.  
Man, it was hard to concentrate on one thing, but Paul and I did it. We only had a couple more patrols this week—one down, two to go.  
.....  
Torture, pure torture, I tell ya. Glad that was over for now. For the time being, I had to plan how to avoid Chelle for days on end.  
I couldn’t decide which situation was worse. I was afraid that I’d forget myself and cozy up with my girl. What a disaster that would be. Damn gypsy. Is that how she got off, by ruining other people’s lives?  
.....  
I heard the bangin’ on the damn door and went bleary-eyed to open it, forgetting whose body I had on. Ugh, I was in my boxers and not exactly dressed for company. Paul and I had just come back from patrol duty, and afterward, I’d just dropped onto the bed, exhausted.  
“Come on, Paul, answer the door.”  
It was Rachel, crap! “Wait a minute; let me put my pants on.”  
I heard her say, “You don’t have to do that on my account, stud.”  
What? Jeez, it was embarrassin’ to have her talk like that, to me of all people. Hoooollleeey—I hope she wouldn’t come onto me. That would be totally sick. What the hell was I gonna do?  
Where were his clothes? Why the hell didn’t I check them out yesterday when I had the chance? I opened the closet door and was bombarded with fancy-schmancy duds. I needed everyday clothes, not stuff for Dancin’ with the Stars. Rummaging thru the dresser, I finally found some Levi’s. Zippin’ up my jeans, I heard her yell, “How long does it take to put on a stinkin’ pair of pants? Hurry up, will you? I’m freezing my butt off out here.”  
As soon as the door opened, she lunged at me, grabbin’ the collar of my tee, tryin’ to plant one on me. Damn, woman, show some restraint. I jerked back quickly outta target range.  
Rachel was pissed. “What’s wrong with you? First Jake, now you.”  
“Morning breath.”  
“Never stopped you before.”  
“Yeah, well, I’m turning over a new leaf.” A lotta new leaves … actually, a huge treefull.  
.....  
“I don’t know, Curro, it was really suspicious. Jake was singing a song over and over in his head, and Paul kept thinking about our encounter with the lady on the rez. It was like the two of them were trying to hide something. You don’t suppose …?”  
Curro slapped his palm to his forehead. “Madre de Dios. Mi pobre amigo. Si, I do believe it to be so. Ai, yi, yi! What can we do for him?”  
“Nothing that I know of. I’ll go to Paul’s apartment and see what’s what.”  
. . . . .  
What the hell! I banged and banged on the door. He was in there, all right, because the pickup was parked outside. Sniffing the air, I caught his scent more strongly, then saw him climbing out his bedroom window. Hmn, strange. Wait … now that I thought about it, their thoughts were … how could I explain it? Paul’s thoughts were in Jake’s voice, and vice versa. I was the only one close enough to notice.  
That nailed it. The gypsy was good for her word. What a tangled up mess this was. That stupid Paul. He never did know when to keep his big mouth shut. He really did it this time. He messed with the wrong person.  
.....  
That whole stupid week, I had to come up with one excuse after another to avoid getting too close to my sister, if ya get my drift. I was too tired, after gettin’ off patrol, or gettin’ ready to go on one—that or climb outta the window whenever her car pulled up to the curb. Man, this was wearin’ me down. I wanted my own body back.  
If I ever saw Bella, I had to be careful not to act too friendly. She and Paul didn’t actually play nice together. Okay … so they hated each other’s guts, but drew up a truce for Rachel’s sake.  
.....  
I was sitting at the dinner table three days later, when Chelle asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”  
Great—I was ready to bite into a slab of deer, and she wanted to talk. “Sure.” Whoops, I quickly added another, “Sure.” Why the hell does he say that anyway?  
She walked around the table, and said to Billy, “Can you excuse us for a moment? I’ve got something important to talk to Jake about.”  
Billy looked up from his plate. “Doesn’t bother this ol’ man. Have at it.”  
. . . . .  
“I just don’t get it. Paul seems to be avoiding me. He’s either too tired from patrolling or getting ready to go out on patrol. Bye—see ya! It’s one excuse after another.  
“Is he mad at me for spending so much time on this party? Oh my gosh! You don’t think he has another woman on the side, do you?”  
“Nah, his heart is yours. We’ve been really busy patrollin’ lately. I’m sure it’ll pass.”  
“Well, it better, because I’m sick of it.”  
Phew, close one. Seventy-two hours to go. But, would I last that long?  
.....  
The next time we patrolled—same scenario, so I followed Paul/Jake home to his apartment. “Hey, Black, no use running from me,” I shouted through the door. “I’ll just phase and chase your tail down. And you know I can do it. Your secret is safe with me. The gypsy woman did a number on you, didn’t she?”  
The door swung open and Paul/Jake stuck his head out. “Whaddya talking about.”  
“Get real. You can stop pretending. You and Paul, thinking in a loop all night … What is it? Mrs. Rita forbids you to tell anyone that you’ve been cursed?”  
“I can’t—”  
“Look, moron, you didn’t say a thing. I guessed it, so you’re off the hook. Anyhow, how long will this hex stay on you?”  
“Two more days, then we havta shingle her roof.”  
I laughed. Sorry, but it was funny. “Wow! Free labor. She is one smart cookie.”  
“Hey, listen, Leah, please don’t let the cat outta the bag. You were right, she said if we told anyone while the spell was … active, I guess … that it can never be removed.”  
“Okay, you got it, Jake. Mum’s the word. It’s not like I haven’t tucked away our own little curse for these many years.”  
“Thanks, Leah. You’re a pal.”  
“And don’t you ever forget it.”  
....  
Bella was over at the house again, dammit. She couldn’t seem to stay away from Jake. The girl was like a piece of adhesive tape, and she was snuggled up to me on the lumpy sofa. I was trying to watch some stupid chick flick she brought over—booorrriiing. I couldn’t help the series of yawns that fled from my mouth in protest.  
“All right,” she sighed. “I can tell you’re not really into the movie. So, just turn it off.”  
Relief at last. But then with the TV off, she began to get frisky. Damn, Jacob was gonna kill me. But, hey, it wasn’t my fault. Bella started it, and man, she was all over me. Let’s face it, I was a veritable chick magnet. Oh, crap, wait … I was in Jake’s body, so what did that say about my animal magnetism? Bummer.  
While my brain was busy going over how Jacob was gonna cream me, his girl hopped onto my lap and began running her fingers through my hair. I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t nice—really nice. But then her lips found their way to mine, and my—well, Jake’s body—reacted. Damn, that girl was wearing me down, and I didn’t even like her. It was no secret that we couldn’t stand each other, but man, those lips wanted to be friends with mine, and I was a very friendly guy.  
What the hell, I had to go along with the charade, right? So, I hopped on board for the ride, giving my urges first priority. Guilty thoughts about my Chelle popped into my head though, after a few torrid kisses and manhandling. Stop, I had to stop, hormones notwithstanding. So, I pulled back away from her and politely lifted her off my lap.  
Her mouth pouted up, and she whined, “What’s wrong, Jake?”  
“Nothin’, it’s just that Rach and Dad will be home soon.”  
“Oh, pooh, Rachel said, they’d be gone for hours.”  
Now what? Think, Paul, think. Hunger, okay, hunger; that’s it. “I’m so hungry. All I can think about is food.”  
Bella stood straight up, her hands fisted on her hips. “Geesh. You’re always complaining that I put the brakes on you, and now, you’re telling me you’re hungry?”  
“Bells, honey, can’t you hear my stomach grumblin’?”  
Whoa, she got all huffy, and hissed, “Well, go fix yourself something to eat then. I’m going home.”  
Saved by the bell. “Don’t get mad. I can’t help it if my stomach won’t cooperate with your plans of seduction.”  
With eyes on fire, she exclaimed, “Jacob Black—you are impossible!”  
She slapped my arm, grabbed her backpack, and stormed out the door, trailing flames of fury.  
Dodged that bullet. Poor Jake, that chick had a mean temper. Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t be calling the kettle black, eh?  
.....  
Seein’ Bella, but not being able to touch her or speak to her was killin’ me. In the meantime, Paul came over to complain. “Man, Jake, that girl of yours was hot to trot last night, and I haven’t seen any action in six whole days. I’m telling ya, I was tempted, even tho’ she doesn’t really appeal to me.”  
I jumped up from the futon and pinned him to the wall. “Read my lips, Paul—I don’t want you touchin’ her, breathin’ on her, or anything else for that matter. When it comes time to love my Bella in every way possible, I wanna be in my own freakin’ body to do it. Understand me?”  
“Chill out, pal. I said I was tempted. Nothing happened, I swear.”  
He took a step back. “Good, ’cuz I’ll pound you royally.”  
“I know!”  
.....  
“Just for the record, did you kiss her?”  
I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I had to play the part, didn’t I? What was I supposed to do, spill the beans about being in your body?  
“Look … I just lifted her off my lap, and—”  
Damn, he was in my face again. “Whaaaat? She was on your lap?”  
I could almost see smoke coming out his ears. “It was her idea, not mine, pal.”  
“I don’t give a sh** whose idea it was.”  
“Chill out! I swear, a couple of kisses.” And some extensive groping. “That’s all.”  
“Yeah, well, that’s enough. We only have one more day to suffer. So, just try to stay away from her, huh?”  
“Easy for you to say; you don’t know what the hell you’re missing.”  
“True, but I have some pretty sweet dreams.”


	3. Back to Abb-Normal

 

_Chapter 3: Back to Abb-Normal_

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight.         Banner by LOS

 

I was lookin’ forward—correction, dyin’ to get into my own body once again, but not to shinglin’ the gypsy’s roof. She sure drove a hard bargain.

Paul and I both took our own vehicles. Jeez, what I meant to say was, Paul went in the Rabbit, and I drove his pickup.

**. . . . .**

Mrs. Rita sat in a rocker on the front porch, smoke curls formin’ a wreath around her head. Smiling, she remarked, “Ah, the non-believers are anxious to start, I see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul grumbled.

“The supplies are in the woodshed, as I promised. Don’t let me keep you from your work.” She rose from her seat and returned to her front room, cacklin’ all the way.

**. . . . .**

The shack wasn’t all that big, so the shinglin’ went lickety-split. You gotta believe we wanted to get outta there as soon as possible.

We finished up, put away the leftover shingles and other equipment in her broken down shed, and trotted to her front door, hoping she hadn’t lined up any more odd jobs for us. Let’s face the facts, the lady had us over a barrel, and she knew it.

“Done so soon? My, my … it’s amazing how a little motivation can spur one into action.”

“Do you wannna come out and inspect it?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, do you?” The ol’ hag blew a puff of smoke in our faces. “I trust you did an exemplary job, considering the circumstances.”

I glanced at Paul, who was rolling his eyes. “So, can you remove the hex now? Please?”

She chuckled—the sadist. “It doesn’t work that way, Master Black. The curse will stay active until morning. When you wake up tomorrow, all will be as it was.”

“Thanks.” _I think._

The gypsy winked at me. “Anytime, Sonny.”

**. . . . .**

Afraid to open my eyes the following morning, I first patted my body. No good … Paul had a similar physique. Crackin’ a slit in one eyelid, I glanced around the room. Home! I was home! So glad to be myself again, I dressed quickly and ran into the kitchen.

Rachel was stirring a pot of oatmeal on the burner. I came up behind her. “Hi, ya, Rach!” I yelled. She jumped a mile. Laughin’ I bent down and kissed her cheek.

“For Pete’s sake, Jacob, you scared the living daylights out of me. I can never hear you sneaking up on me … you and Paul, both. What’s with you anyway?”

I grinned at her while I sat down at the table. “Nothin’. Jeez, can’t I be glad to see my sister?”

As she scraped some hot cereal into my bowl, she said, “It’s just that you’ve been acting odd all week—Paul, too. It was like you both had switched bodies or something, under some kind of spell.” 

Adding milk and honey to the oatmeal, I spooned some into my mouth, swallowed, and said, “Hmn … I had a lot on my mind.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back in your _right_ mind now.”

_Right body, more like._

Dad yelled from the bedroom. “Jake, you out there? I need a little help. Can’t find my damn shoes.”

“Be right there, Dad.”

I scarfed down the oatmeal and headed to his bedroom. All was right with the world.

# # # # #

I stretched and yawned. Wait a minute—my feet were still on the bed, not dangling off the end. Either I woke up in my own apartment, or I shrunk during the night. After all that happened this crazy week, anything was possible.

I shot off the mattress, and onto my feet. Hallelujah! The devil woman kept her promise.

Washing up, I donned my glad rags and headed over to the Blacks’, anxious to see my Chelle.

**. . . . .**

Chelle greeted me with, “Hey, stranger.”

Grimacing, I answered, “Yeah … about that …”

“So, you’re going to tell me why you and Jake have been acting so odd?”

I sighed …loudly. “Well, it’s like this, and I warn you, it’s a long story. Let’s go to my place and make up for lost time. I’ll tell ya all about it, after we …”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to spell it out. I’m not clueless, stud.”

With a grin on my face, I countered with, “Come on, girl, we’ll hurry. I wouldn’t want you to explode in anticipation.”

Chelle grabbed her coat, and yelled into the kitchen, “Bye, Dad, I’m going over to Paul’s. See you later.”

.....

I nearly floated out to the Taj, really chompin’ at the bit to see my sweetie. No sooner had I entered the garage, than my best pal, Embry, came saunterin’ round the corner wall.

He saluted me. “Hey, Jake. I heard what happened to you and Paul.”

“Man, news sure travels fast around here.”

“Mrs. Rita is the genuine article, eh?”

“Yeah, so?”

Shruggin’, he explained, “So, I was wondering if you would go with me over there, to get a charm.”

“A charm?”

“Yeah … you know. I need help with the ladies. I want them to find me irresistible and all.”

“You’re kiddin’.”

He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I’ve never been more serious. I’m tired of being Mr. Shy guy. I’m ready for some action.”

“If you say so. We’ll go tonight. Now outta my way. I’m gonna see Bella and get some action for myself.”

I climbed into the Rabbit and heard Embry yell, “Wooh! Go, Jake.”

**. . . . .**

Her eyes were narrowed as she stood, framed in the doorway. “What do _you_ want, Mr. Prude?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

I must’ve looked confused, ’cuz she added, “What? Your wolf hearing suddenly failed?”

Bella slammed the door in my face. Damn that Paul. He didn’t bother to tell me she was mad at him … me, whatever. Jeez, what was I gonna do?”

“Hey, Bells,” I said, as I rapped on the door once again. “I’m sorry, but I can explain.”

“I don’t want to hear any of your lame excuses. Go make yourself a sandwich or something. Aren’t you famished?”

Leaning my forehead against the door, I whined, “This is stupid. We’re talkin’ thru’ a chunka wood. Why do you havta be so freakin’ stubborn? Can you please open the door? I said I was sorry for that night. C’mon, Bells, have a heart. I’m beggin’.”

The door swung wide open. With hands fisted on either side of her hips, she hissed, “This better be good.”

I shook my head. “Oh, it’s a doozie, all right. I promise.” I made an imaginary “X” on my chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

**. . . . .**

Charlie was sittin’ in his favorite Lazy Boy, thumbin’ thru’ a fishin’ catalog. He looked from Bella to me, and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, boy, I think I’ll mosey on out to the back forty, and rake up some leaves while you two … ahem … talk. See ya, kids.”

Bella was still glarin’ at me. “Weeellll, so what’s your all-fired explanation for the way you’ve been acting?”

Scratchin’ my head, I replied, “Shouldn’t we, uh … be sittin’ down first?”

“I prefer to stand, thank-you-very-much.”

Were those hands ever gonna move from her hips? Spoke too soon, ’cuz now her arms were crossing in front of her chest.

I sat on the hot seat, alone. “Here it is in a nutshell. Remember when Paul told you the ol’ gypsy woman put a hex on us? Believe it.”

I proceeded to rehearse the whole sordid tale. She never once blinked, and when I finished, Bella said, “That’s quite a story. You make it up all by yourself, or did that jerk, Paul, help with it?”

“No … I—”

“Oh, stop it. That’s the biggest load of horse manure I’ve ever heard.”

“Bells, have I ever lied to you, even once?”

“There’s always a first time.”

“So, now I’m a liar, huh?”

She looked away for a moment. “You said it, not me.”

I sprang from my seat. “Great! Look, if you don’t trust me, go ask Paul.”

“Right.”

“Oooookaaaay. Then Leah or Curro.”

“You bet I’ll ask them.”

“Go ahead. Call them right now.”

**. . . . .**

“Seriously? Oh my gosh. That’s incredible. How does so much paranormal stuff happen here? It’s like we’re in some supernatural vortex or something.” Bella chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I need to forgive him for being out of his mind.”

I patted the sofa cushion beside me. “Ah-ha. See? Told ya. Now plant your sassy little self right next to me.”

She smiled, and practically jumped onto the couch, her arms reachin’ out to mine.

The chief returned to the room, grinnin’. “Looks like you two ironed out your problems.”

“Yep.” _Now go away, Charlie._

He gestured toward the door. “I’ll just hop on over to your place, and watch the Steelers game with your dad. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style, kid.”

My eyes were still glued to Bella’s as I said, “Thanks, Charlie.”

That night was like no other. My girl repeated the antics she performed when Paul was me, and I was lovin’ every freakin’ minute of it.

**. . . . .**

Embry and I went to see Mrs. Rita.

“Well, well, Master Black. What have we here? You bring another friend to visit the lonely gypsy, eh?”

A puff of grey smoke from her pipe wafted to Embry’s face. _Jeez, does she sleep with that thing hangin’ off her lip?_ He waved the nasty cloud away, coughin’. I spoke for him, since he was bent over,” chokin’ on the stuff. “Yeah, he needs a boost to his love life.”

“A love charm, you say, hmn?”

Embry cleared his throat, then looking down, scuffed his shoes against the porch slats. “Um, you see, I’m a little bashful around the girls.”

She glanced at me. “Such a nice boy; not like your other friend.”

Her eyes settled on Embry again. “I have just the thing for you. Come in, come in.”

We sat at the table while she poked around the bottles and tins on the shelves linin’ the back wall. “Now where is the mugwort?” she muttered.

Pushin’ several containers aside, she found the object in question. “Aah, here it is.”

She mixed together some powders and liquids and poured the concoction into a small dark bottle.

The gypsy instructed my friend, “Just a bit of this on your throat whenever you’re near someone you’d like to know better. A dab will do ya, use more if you’re daring, but not too much now, or the gals will be pursuing you. Mark my words, a little goes a long way.”

Embry, jokin’ around, said, “What about my friend, here. You got a love charm for him too?”

“Oh no, Sonny. Come here, and I’ll show you why. No charge.”

Mrs. Rita uncovered her crystal ball, and as we gazed into it, the mist vanished, and we witnessed Bella and me at our wedding. I was gobsmacked. I didn’t doubt that what we saw would surely come to pass.

**. . . . .**

The next day, Bella and I had just come outta the house on the way to the Taj. My cupboards were empty, and I desperately needed a trip to the grocery store. I heard a sound like a herd of buffalo stampedin’. What the hell? Then, shrieks and giggles cut thru’ the air. There was Embry, runnin’ for his life, a mob of love-crazed girls hot on his heels.

Bella turned to me. “What in the world?”

I threw my hands up above my head. “Too much of a good thing would be my guess.” _Damn, gypsy_.

**The End**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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